


Carpool With Gavroche (Minus The Karaoke)

by senseless_leigh



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Foster Parents, Gen, I repeat, Minor Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Modern AU, Sibling bond, This is ridiculous, Utterly Ridiculous, they're barely there, this is mainly about gavroche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senseless_leigh/pseuds/senseless_leigh
Summary: Gavroche steals some stuff.Eponine is mad.There is a carpool.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Carpool With Gavroche (Minus The Karaoke)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Amelie! I wrote this one for you. I know Gavroche is your favourite, so here he is.

Eponine is silent. Worryingly silent. The sound of it is thick, weighing down the air inside of the car, and it makes Gavroche’s skin crawl. He never really knows where he stands with a silent Eponine, and he half-wishes that she’d just hurry up and start scolding him already.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gavroche catches her casting him a glare, and he swallows.

His sister can be a terrifying creature.

Gavroche hadn’t walked into that store with the intention of stealing anything. Truly. He’d just been hungry, and it’d been such a long time since he’d eaten anything that wasn’t the tasteless health food their foster parents were forcing on them at the moment. So he slipped a couple chocolates into his pockets. And a few sweets. Gavroche even left a thank-you note for the shopkeeper, because he has a heart.

Unfortunately, Gavroche wasn’t as careful with the food as he should have been, because one of the workers noticed the Kit-Kats peeking out of his pockets and pulled him aside as he left. The worker, a young redheaded girl, told him she wasn’t going to call the police -- but she put the food back, and asked him for his guardian’s phone number. Gavroche gave her Eponine’s. He’d rather their foster parents not know, and he couldn’t exactly call his own parents.

The Thenardiers had been arrested two years ago. He’s fairly certain they won’t be out of jail anytime soon. 

Gavroche sighs and props his head up against the window, watching the suburban houses roll by. He gives a small wave to a man out walking his golden retriever, and the dog barks in their direction, tail wagging. Eponine drives past an unfamiliar street sign, and Gavroche frowns.

“Ep,” he says. “This isn’t the way home.”

Eponine regards him. Gavroche isn’t sure if she’s going to answer him at all, but then she says curtly: “We’re going to the Musain.”

“The Musain?”

The Musain is a café near Eponine’s school, but he’s never known her to frequent it. It’s small, and old-fashioned, and very cosy, actually. Not really Eponine’s scene.

“I was already on my way to pick up Enjolras and Grantaire. They’ve got an ABC meeting, and Enjolras wanted us to study together afterwards.”

Oh, right.

Enjolras set up the Les Amis de L’ABC last year. It’s the high school’s resident social justice club, but Gavroche has never been sure of what exactly it is that they do, outside of arguing about veganism and socialism. He’s gotten to know the members well, though. After their parents’ arrest, Grantaire or Enjolras or Courfeyrac or Marius was always dropping by their old house, trying to help Eponine through the whole situation. Gavroche likes them. They like him, too, he thinks. There’s an unspoken arrangement between them all that if Eponine or their foster parents can’t, one of the ABC will be available to watch Gavroche, or to take him places if he wants to go.

Essentially, he has a big, revolutionary second family. It’s a good system.

Eponine drives in silence for a couple more minutes, before pulling up outside of the café. The car door is wrenched open, and Grantaire climbs into the back seat, tugging Enjolras along behind him.

“Hey, Ep,” Grantaire greets.

“Hi there,” Eponine says. 

Enjolras settles into the seat in the middle, and gives her a wave. When they make no move close the door, Grantaire clears his throat. Eponine gives him a curious look.

“So, uh, Eponine,” Grantaire says. “Would you mind giving Marius a ride home? His parents had an emergency.”

Eponine tenses, just a little. Gavroche twists around in his seat to see Marius standing outside, arms crossed over his chest, hugging himself in the cold.

“Fine,” Eponine says, sighing. “Okay. Come on in, Marius.”

Marius smiles gratefully, and piles in next to Enjolras and Grantaire. They all look very small, squashed in together in the backseat of Eponine’s hatchback. Something about it is delightful to Gavroche.

“Thanks,” Marius tells Eponine, and he sounds genuinely relieved. “Really.”

“It’s nothing,” Eponine says.

There’s silence for a few moments, and then Eponine seems to remember herself. “Um, Marius, where do you live?”

Gavroche waggles his eyebrows at her.

Marius tells her his address, and Eponine nods. She also manages to shoot Gavroche another glare, and it’s subtler this time, but her brown eyes scream bloody murder. 

(This is less delightful.)

Eponine drives away, and Grantaire fills the silence with his usual brand of mindless chatter: he details the last meeting, makes pointed comments about Enjolras latest social justice fixation, shares mentions of gossip he’s picked up on at school. Gavroche finds he likes this version of Grantaire better, surrounded by more members of the ABC.

(In spite of all Grantaire and Enjolras’ disagreements, when Grantaire and Gavroche are alone, Gavroche often finds himself listening to Grantaire waxing lyrical about the precise blue of Enjolras’ eyes, or the gleaming gold of his hair. Eponine is the only one who thinks it’s cute. Gavroche thinks her and Grantaire should start a club.)

Eventually, Grantaire asks how Gavroche’s day has been. Eponine freezes.

“What?” Grantaire says, concerned.

“...Eponine’s mad,” Gavroche explains. “I stole some stuff.”

“Again?” says Grantaire.

“Again?” Eponine echoes, voice high.

Gavroche makes a mental note to steal something from Grantaire later, and then he shrugs. “Sorry,” he says.

Eponine has shifted around to face Grantaire. “You’ve known? Wait, who knows?”

Slowly, Marius and Grantaire raise their hands. So does Gavroche.

“It’s really no big deal,” Gavroche says, after Eponine has swatted his hand down. “This is the first time I’ve actually been caught, and I got away fine.”

Eponine sighs, and makes a motion like she’s about to slam her head against the steering wheel, but thinks better of it.

“It’s just,” she starts, her tone dropping. When she speaks next, her voice is much quieter. “You know I don’t want you to end up like them.”

Gavroche knows she’s talking about their parents. He knows Eponine’s not usually like this, that she’s usually patient, that she’s only concerned for him. Eponine’s always been protective. She’s had to be. She’s probably had a bigger hand in raising him than their parents and their foster parents combined.

“Alright,” Gavroche says, slowly. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Eponine says.

“Yeah. It won’t happen again.”

Eponine smiles, bright and wide, and Gavroche feels a little flutter of happiness in his chest. 

“Good,” Eponine says.

The conversation continues, segueing into something lighter, and Gavroche just sits back to listen. He discovers that Enjolras is worried about numbers for their upcoming rally, and that Grantaire really wants to do well on his philosophy exam, and that Eponine’s ability to act like a normal human being around Marius is even more concerning than he’d previously thought. He resigns himself to the fact that it’s probably too late to stage an intervention, though.

Halfway through Enjolras’ and Grantaire’s argument on Nietzsche, Eponine pulls up to Marius’ house. It’s a stately suburban home, framed by pine trees on each side, and surrounded by a well-manicured rose garden. Marius pulls open the door, and steps out.

“Thanks again,” he says to Eponine.

“It’s really no problem,” she tells him.

“I mean it,” he says, quickly leaning in to grab his bag from the car. “And by the way,” he adds, slinging the bag over his shoulder, “you looked nice today.”  
The door slams shut.

Eponine, in the seat next to Gavroche, melts into a puddle of thick, oozing goo.

Grantaire barks out a laugh. “You good, Ep?”

Gavroche answers for her. “No.”

“We gotta get going eventually, you know.”

“I don’t think she’ll be ready anytime soon,” says Gavroche.

The puddle moves a little, shifting into something that bears slightly more of a human appearance.

“Shut up,” it says.

“Do you think it would be better if you drove, Grantaire?” Gavroche asks.

“I’m starting to think so.”

“You don’t have your license,” Enjolras tells Grantaire. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Grantaire narrows his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Eponine, thankfully, appears to be returning to herself. She rubs her temples, and lets her hands fall onto the steering wheel.

“Alright,” she says, her voice a weak huff. “Let’s go.”

“I can drive, if you want,” Gavroche says cheerily.

Eponine sighs. “You’re on thin ice, kid.”

Gavroche’s smile grows wider.

Eponine pulls out of the driveway, and they begin the journey back home. They’re not very far away from the house, Gavroche thinks. Only a few minutes, probably. In the back, Gavroche hears that Enjolras and Grantaire have resumed their debate, and he turns to Eponine.

“You won’t tell them, will you?” he says, voice low.

Gavroche hasn’t made a habit of calling their foster parents ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’, but they’re the closest thing he’s got to them. He hates to admit it, but he does have a desire to make them proud. It’s an affliction.

When Eponine looks at him again, her eyes are soft. “Okay,” she says. “I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Gavroche says, and he means it.

“Thank you?” interrupts Grantaire.

(Enjolras is looking very smug, so their debate has presumably ended.)

“Who’s thanking who for what?” Grantaire asks, eyebrow raised.

Totally deadpan, Eponine explains: “Gavroche has just finished begging me to dress up as him for the next annual World Cheese Rolling Championships. He’s sick, so he can’t make it.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” Grantaire says.

“Don’t be. The truth was bound to come out eventually. Gavroche is secretly obsessed with cheese rolling.”

Gavroche huffs.

Eponine just shrugs. “Since he was a babe.”

Gavroche, eager to change this particular topic of conversation, exclaims: “Oh, look! We’re almost home.”

Eponine rolls her eyes, and pulls into their garage.

“You ready for some hardcore studying?” Gavroche hears Enjolras whisper to Grantaire. His voice is quiet, and Gavroche briefly wonders if that was a euphemism.

“Of course I—oh, shit!” Grantaire says suddenly, breaking himself off.

“What?” Enjolras asks, concerned.

“I left my textbooks at the Musain.”

“Oh,” says Enjolras. “That’s alright, just use mine.”

“Really?” says Grantaire. “Thank you.” He lets out a long breath, and then groans: “Oh god. What’s wrong with me?”

Gavroche grins at him, all teeth. “I mean, just off the top of my head--”

“Oh, har,” Grantaire bites back.

Gavroche smiles an angelic smile, and clambers out of the car. The others climb out after him, and they file inside. It’s bright and warm in the house, and the whitewashed walls are tinged gold under the light of the setting sun.

“You gonna keep us company, Gavroche?” Grantaire asks him.

“Oh, you shouldn’t ask him that,” Enjolras says. “He’s busy.”

“Busy?” says Grantaire. “With what?”

“The cheese rolling.”  
***  
The next day, Gavroche finds himself in the same store. In spite of his better judgement, he also finds himself with more snacks in his pocket than he has money to pay for.

When he decides to make a run for it, he still gets caught.

Thankfully, it’s the owner who catches him this time, and not one of the workers. The owner is surprisingly empathetic, and so Gavroche manages to avoid dealing with both the police and Eponine. He explains that he is intimately familiar with the consequences of stealing food, and that he believes the punishment is often more severe than is befitting of the crime. His name tag reads 'Valjean'. He seems to have a lot of feelings about it.

Eventually, the owner sends Gavroche on his way.

He gets his snacks and an extra loaf of bread.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheese rolling championships are actually a thing, believe it or not.
> 
> This was inspired by a tumblr post, but I don't know who to credit for it, sorry. Something about Gavroche and "it's not stealing if you say thank you"?


End file.
